


Masterpiece

by KeybladeCryptography



Category: Kingdom Hearts (Video Games)
Genre: Gen, Mild Blood, Pre-Canon, The Lifestream (Compilation of FFVII)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:40:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25686718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KeybladeCryptography/pseuds/KeybladeCryptography
Summary: The Master of Masters's last creation is a boy.
Relationships: Master of Masters & Sora (Kingdom Hearts)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 50





	Masterpiece

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [help me piece it all together, darling](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19700488) by [Beastrage](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beastrage/pseuds/Beastrage). 



The Master of Masters’s last creation is a boy.

He is a masterpiece, the culmination of all the things that were created before him.

The first ingredient is sunlight, to make him grow strong and bright. He gathers it up in jars at sunset when the color is most vibrant, when the light is dying but not going down without a fight against the encroaching nightfall. There’s pink for his insides, his lungs to say “my friends are my power” and his heart to hold the others. There’s red for his blood, flowing and dripping and stolen and splattered. There’s gold for his eyes, the last glinting light in the shadow for when he too is dying but not without a fight. It takes hundreds of days and thousands of jars, gathered up by the armful and placed gently in the pitch black basement because there is a balance to these things. He must be perfect.

The next two are earth and water, to give him a body and let him wander. The Master fetches a pail and a shovel and walks down to the beach, bootprints always washed away by the tide when he’s finished. This World will leave little trace of him at the end of this era, none at all at the end of the next. It does not want him here and he has long overstayed his welcome, so a parting gift is the least he can do. He fills his pail with wet sand where the land and the sea meet and pours it out on the table to pick out crabs and kelp and shells. He rubs a grain of sea salt between his fingers, for the sweat pouring down the boy’s face in the heat of battle, for a memory that hasn’t been made yet. He gives the boy shape on that same table, pours each jar of light in before packing the sand of his chest. He gathers more when the light seeps through the cracks.

The boy is meant to be human but every human being is a dreamer, this one more so than usual, so his mind is made with Dream Pieces. Lofty Fantasy, for the imagination to believe in other worlds when the notion is dismissed as a fairytale and Dulcet Fancy for an ever-present smile. Two….no, three Intrepid Figments. Light knows he’ll need them for all his adventures. Grim Fancy for despair, for clenched fists and hot tears and bared teeth and darkness eating and eating and eating. The Master of Masters would not wish this role on anyone, but he has no right to guilt when everyone is a sacrifice. Lastly, a Noble Figment, front and center, to tie everything together. To ensure everything goes according to plan and prophecy.

The boy only needs a little of the last ingredient but it’s the most important part. Out beyond Daybreak Town, in a place that exists in the Master’s memory alone, there is a spring, and from that spring flows the Lifestream. Like the World, it does not like him, but that’s all right. It will like the boy. The Master takes him there and sits him down against a tree. It’s his first time outside the clocktower walls and the Master wishes he were conscious, so he could be the one to see the joy on his face upon discovering the outside World and take pride in the happiness of his creation, but it’s not meant to be. He takes off his gloves and cups his hands and gathers up the Lifestream. It bubbles and burns in protest but it’s nothing he can’t recover from. He molds the liquid with careful hands into two perfect mako stone spheres and gently pushes back the boy’s eyelids to give him two perfect mako eyes. To keep his sight on the World so he can always step forward. To connect him to all that is and was and ever will be. 

The Master of Masters places his last creation in a box. It’s a shame he has to stay hidden so long, well-crafted as he is, but his creator’s labor will one day bear fruit, even if he’s not recognized for it. It doesn’t matter in the end, not when the World despises his name. Speaking of...it’s best if he gives the boy one. Like giving a title to a painting. It’s not that he’s attached. He pushes back the boy’s eyelids and glances between his eyes and the sky, dimmed by the tinted window. The Master smiles. This will only hurt him, but that’s what he deserves, after everything he hasn’t done yet. “Goodnight, Sora.”

**Author's Note:**

> I recently played FFVII for the first time and then I was playing KH3 again and I thought to myself "Sora has mako eyes". And then this happened. You can come say hi on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/CrepusculeChaos) if you want. Thanks for reading.


End file.
